


Blossom

by CorellianSea



Series: Prompts | Challenges [1]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, character mourning, under 1000 words challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6461599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorellianSea/pseuds/CorellianSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">“Are you seriously stealing flowers off that grave? Jedi can do that?”</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blossom

 

“Are you seriously stealing flowers off that grave? Jedi can do that?”

Luke turned, mouth wide open from being caught off guard. His grip on the brown limp stems had tightened severely, and in consequence, it squeezed out what little moisture the stalks contained. Blue eyes spared a glance downward, realizing yet again that he had trouble controlling himself. The biomechanic arm was still something he had to consciously pay mind to. Sap dripped down his fingers as he straightened himself, refusing to let his composure drop as his mind skirted along the borders of acrimony.

He was better than that.

He’d changed a lot since then.

He was a Jedi now.

“I’m not.”

“What’re you doin' then?” The youngling asked with an impish grin that surged smoldering heat up Luke’s sternum, rattling his body with chills. Thin lips tightened upon hearing the encroaching question, and he refrained from lashing out at the teen that skipped over to him. 

Too soon — it was still so raw. 

“I… am replacing the flowers.” As if to prove himself, he carefully picked the rest of the rotting flowers up, one by one until all of them were stuffed into the bag he had slung across his shoulder. “I didn't replace them last time.”

“Why? That’s your _friend_ right?”

Luke bristled, the hairs on his neck stood upright. A curse was breathed out to damn his luck and general timing on anything.

The locals had been nothing short of unrelenting when it came to meeting the Jedi for the first time since hearing of the Empire’s galaxy wide downfall. They were simply mesmerized by the presence of the war hero who had risen unscathed from the flames of battle, victorious even. Enamored seemed somewhat of an understatement. He was a celebrity here.

The Alliance reiterated their promises of a better future and had perpetually used his name in the process; more or less it _guaranteed_ that the burden of rebuilding the galaxy would fall upon his shoulders. That _he_ , the one who had abolished the deadliest force within the galaxy would of course, be the one to see their plans through. It made him bitter at times, though, Luke could not deny his loyalty to his sister and the Alliance. Leia kept him grounded there.

Nevertheless, Luke was the one to carry out the worst of the hardship. How many planets had he landed on, negotiated with, signed a treaty with, and left with enough unwanted praise to last a dozen lifetimes? How many planets had he’d gone only to be captured and tortured, to fight a battle that wasn't his — just to keep his vow of protecting innocence? To clash with squadrons of the Empire that could not come to terms with reality. How much had he lost in the process of getting to this point of his life? How much more would he lose in the future?

How much time had he spent out here anyway, tangling with pointless afterthoughts?

Luke flushed his emotions into the force and opened his mouth to speak. A hand slapped his shoulder hard and briefly, he felt rather astonished that someone could still manage to sneak up on him. An answer graced him upon realizing who it was.

“Kid, why don’t ‘cha scram for a sec? Master Skywalker’s got some stuff to talk about with me.” Han ignored protest Luke had sputtered out and shooed the juvenile away so they could ruffle someone else’s feathers. In turn, it earned him a playful jab about his age. The kid stated that he was his own boss but took a hike away from their direction anyway.

“I could have handled that, you know.” The young man rummaged through his bag and pushed the rotted flowers over to one side so he could reach the fresh ones he’d picked earlier.

“I had no choice.” The spacer merely shrugged while watching Luke from his vantage point. “You know I always got my eye on you, kid.” Solace spread and circulated within him abruptly, startling him, but he was comforted by knowing that it was Luke’s force powers affecting him in such a way. Their minds were linked long ago, but the feeling still felt foreign when it came without warning.

Han bent down to brush dirt and dust away from the metal plaque and sat down in the grass, coaxing his mate to do the same. Luke hesitated, instead taking his time to figure out where he wanted to place his offering and took his sweet time thinking on it. Han waited patiently, up till the lukewarm tranquility he felt earlier began to dissipate.

When the new blossoms settled, Luke deemed ready to go. The man was looking apprehensive and not far from falling into a bout of deep grief. Luke knew from their link that for some reason, Han had _wanted_ him to welcome it.

Turmoil began to blister and fester in the Jedi’s gut when the older man had at long last sat him down next to him. A heavy arm draped over his slumped shoulders in a way that came off as comforting, but the load on his mind only increased in pressure. They say there until the sun began to set, until the lights of the villages turned on, until the crash of the oncoming waves settled down into quiet, mellow swellings of the tide.

“You okay?”

“Better,” Luke nodded, and leaned into Han’s larger frame. He felt exhausted.

“So,” The Corellian began softly, “You got… any funny stories about ‘em?” Han was awarded with quiet laughter.

 

“So… Biggs Darklighter...Y’know he had the _weirdest_ mustache…”

  
  



End file.
